


Suns and Stars are Drowning

by ariadne_dionysia



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Atlantis AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_dionysia/pseuds/ariadne_dionysia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis is about to be submerged into the ocean, and everyone is fleeing the city before it's too late. Pythagoras is about to get on the last boat when he realizes Icarus isn't there, and goes back to the city to find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suns and Stars are Drowning

It was logical to be afraid, Pythagoras knew that. What he couldn’t wrap his head around was why he was running through the city, stumbling past panicked people searching for loved ones with their hands full of their belongings, screaming Icarus’ name as loudly as he could. He couldn’t find reason for the feeling of panic in his chest when he thought of the city falling and never seeing Icarus again, of disappearing into the sea without having those big brown eyes light up when he neared again. Jason was gone, Ariadne with him, and Hercules too; it was just Pythagoras, running through the city like Artemis, constantly chasing after the sun. 

“Icarus!” He knocked on the door of Dedalus’ workshop, slamming his fist into the door rapidly. The door swung open, and a few papers fluttered in the breeze. The place had been abandoned in a hurry, Pythagoras could see; papers were everywhere, tables had been knocked askew and bookshelves raided for their treasures. Icarus’ wings were gone, and the candles dripped hot wax on the floor. The breath went out of Pythagoras’ lungs, and his shoulders slumped. Icarus was gone, and chances were he wouldn’t see him again before the end. Hot tears welled up in his eyes, and he bowed his head, letting himself break down. There was no more running to be done; he would die, here, where he and Icarus had laughed and worked, and dreamed a course to the stars.

"Pyth.” The voice, soft and tentative as a feather, made Pythagoras spin, his eyes wide and red with surprise and anguish. Icarus stood in the doorway, breathless, staring at him with surprise. In two strides he closed the distance between them, reaching out to pull Pythagoras into his arms. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find you,” he said softly, his breath tickling Pythagoras’ ear. “The others…?”

"They got out I think.” Pythagoras’ shoulders trembled. Stop crying, he told himself as his tears dripped like hot wax onto Icarus’ shoulder. Stop crying. “Your father?” 

“I managed to get him on the last boat.”

Pythagoras pulled away and frowned. “You should’ve gone with him,” he said, shaking his head. His breath felt like a fist pressing into his chest. “You’re going to be stuck in the city now, you won’t be able to–” 

“It is my choice.” Icarus’ eyes looked at him with an intensity he hadn’t seen before, but there was a tenderness to them as well, that soft tentative look he had seen in Jason’s eyes when he looked at Ariadne, and Hercules’ face when he spoke of Medusa. Pythagoras felt stunned looking into those eyes, he wanted the world to freeze in this moment, so he could read every thought, feeling, and unspoken word in those eyes. But he couldn’t. 

Icarus swayed towards him a fraction, uncertainly tentative. Their foreheads were practically touching; Icarus smelled like wax and wind. Pythagoras put his hand on Icarus’ chest. He wanted to be close to him, wanted to hold him tight and never let go, not even when the waves came rushing into the city, not when the world ended, not wherever the water brought them next, whether to Hades or Tartarus or even the gates of Olympus itself. 

“I–” Icarus began, the word hitching in his throat. He was afraid; Pythagoras could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, quick and unsteady as a bird’s. It was illogical to love him, and yet he did, with every part of his heart and head he did. 

“Stay with me?” 

Icarus looked up at him, his lips twitching. A small sigh of relief escaped him, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Pythagoras’. Their fingers entwined, and when Icarus pulled away there was less fear in both of their faces. 

When the waves came into the city, it wasn’t the water Pythagoras felt. It wasn’t the cries of people he heard, it wasn’t the falling city he saw. It was Icarus, his hands rough and warm, his voice gentle, and his eyes, big, brown, and full of love. And perhaps it was illogical, but he was not afraid.


End file.
